


With friends like these

by eggshelled



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Chaos, F/M, Hawke Family Feels, Sarcastic Hawke, Sarcastic Romance, Slow Build, Solas is not prepared for Hawke, rogue hawke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggshelled/pseuds/eggshelled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hawke family avoids tragedy while fleeing from the darkspawn in a chance encounter with an apostate named Solas. </p>
<p>Solas’ foci is stolen by an unknown thief. The trail leads to Kirkwall. </p>
<p>Hawke and Solas throw their fates together and hope for the best. </p>
<p>The Solas/Hawke fic no one asked for, ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With friends like these

Hawke dodged the stray bolt fired at her and flung her boot knife at the hurlock in retaliation. It hit its mark and sent the foul creature off in a half spin before it landed in a crumpled mess.

 

She felt the heat of a nearby fireball land, spraying up rock and debris. Two darkspawn screeched. 

 

She turned with the flow of the battle, following the trail of fire her sister had created and twisted to sink her daggers into the neck of the closest darkspawn. The other one lashed out blindly but Hawke dodged and swung up an armored leg, catching its arm by the bend of her knee and dragging it to the ground using her own momentum and its precarious balance. It did not go down gracefully, cracking its jaw on a jut of rock. Hawke stepped on its neck and it snapped loudly in the din of the battle. 

 

Carver let out a bellow as he brought his sword down on the last darkspawn left in the trail, cleaving it near in two. He huffed out a loud breath and rolled his shoulders. “None left.” He affirmed. 

 

Hawke nodded absently and turned to see Bethany helping their mother stand. 

 

“Mother can’t keep this up.” Bethany called over. “We need a rest.”

 

Hawke raised her brows. “I’ll be sure to tell that to the next darkspawn horde we meet.” 

 

“Don’t be a wretch. We all need the rest. If we had left sooner, we wouldn’t be so desperate.” Bethany continued, holding their mother’s arm and letting the older woman lean against her. 

 

“And what were we supposed to do? We left Ostagar once Loghain pulled his forces. We ran all the way to Lothering.” Carver snapped back slipping his sword in the leather brace at his back. 

 

“As exciting as this is, we should leave before more darkspawn come.” Hawke looked at her siblings meaningfully. 

 

Leandra heaved a sigh and pulled away from Bethany. “Listen to your sister. We have to keep moving.”

 

“But we don’t even know where we’re going.” Bethany protested. “We can’t just wander aimlessly. We need a plan.” 

 

“Who cares where we’re going? Away from the darkspawn should be our only concern.” 

 

“Twins, please.” Leandra cocked a hip and looked at Hawke. “We have family in Kirkwall.” 

 

“If my choices are ‘hordes of darkspawn’ or ‘crawling with templars’, I suggest we find a high cliff.” Hawke smiled at her mother. Leandra frowned. 

 

“Kirkwall doesn’t have darkspawn, even if there are templars we come from a good name. It will protect us.” 

 

Bethany looked down at the same time Carver scoffed. 

 

Hawke weighed the options. “I suppose templars are easier to hide from than darkspawn. We can put a sack over her head and cut out little eye holes.” She smiled encouragingly at Bethany. “Then we need a ship.” 

 

“To Gwaren. And we’ll need to tell them we’re coming.” Bethany put in with considerably less force than earlier. 

 

Leandra opened her mouth to say something else but was cut off by the faroff shriek of darkspawn. 

 

Hawke’s levity disappeared. “We need to move, now.” 

 

Carver took up the rear while Hawke led, Bethany at their mother’s side. 

 

Up ahead, after Hawke paused momentarily to loot several corpses, a red haired woman and a man in plate armor branded with the flaming sword of the Templar Order were surrounded by darkspawn. 

 

Hawke leapt into the fray.

  
  
  
  
  


It had been a very long time since he had gone by his first name. He once had been the One Who Hunts Alone, Betrayer, Dread Wolf,  _ Fen’Harel _ . Known and feared by all, far and wide. 

 

Now he was powerless and near enough mortal that he could feel his body dying in a way that had nearly sent him into a panic when he first awoke. Not truly dying, but the magic that had kept him near enough immortal was frayed and weakened by the Veil and the loss of his foci. 

 

A thief had crept into his sanctuary and made off with his foci while he slept guarding it. Whoever had done so had had the chance to kill him at his most vulnerable and yet didn’t - why? To what end did that serve them? Who were they? 

 

All he had seen was a figure, hazy and unfocused as he was from his sleep, hooded and shrouded in shadow, clutching his foci. Whoever they were, his foci had responded. 

 

It was by will alone that he managed to shake the sleep off, to give a pathetic chase after his quarry, but he lost them before long. He had been left to his own devices, confused by the world now overrun with quicklings and those who looked like elves, but couldn’t possibly be. 

 

And the dreams from this place - 

 

It was tragic.  _ He  _ despaired.  _ His  _ foci, lost in such a place. 

 

Too weak to do anything else, he’d slept and looked for those who might have information. 

 

A spirit who had seen the chase equal parts curiosity and knowledge, knew where the trail went, gave him the name of the place where the thief was going. Kirkwall. A place, it claimed, that had once been a city of slaves. He would need a ship, it said. 

 

After the chase, he had been too weak to continue it immediately. It set him back several months. 

 

The spirits had no further guidance. No other places, not why, no specifics. 

 

Solas had not panicked so much even when he created the Veil. 

 

He was far enough behind that the trail was likely cold, and far too weak to call upon his agents. He wasn't even sure if they could be trusted. Loyalty could have easily changed hands while he slept, vallaslin or no. 

 

It was why he found himself in the wilderness, circling around the group of fell creatures known as darkspawn - wretches from the deep infected with a poison that there was only one cure from, and not one he could undertake without heavy consequence - when a roar distracted him. It was an enormous one. Its black maw gaped and drooled openly and it shook its massive horns at a small cluster of humans. 

 

Solas ducked behind a ledge to watch. 

 

The lead one in leather armor unsheathed her weapons and flung a flask that hissed and sent tendrils of strong smelling smoke in the air when it broke. The great beast groaned but charged none the less. 

 

The woman in leathers dodged with a curse and those nearest her dispersed quickly. 

 

A younger man, just a boy Solas realized, bared his teeth and his sword, stepping in front of the older woman. “You soulless bastards!” He swung but the blade only caught a steel brace harmlessly. The creature grabbed the boy and roared again before slamming him into the ground. 

 

The ogre shook the boy, bones snapping and it raised its fist to smash him once again. 

 

Solas snapped out with ice, forming a frozen cone at the creature’s legs with great effort. He stood, legs trembling with the effort of holding the creature where it was and sweat began to bead on his forehead. 

 

He didn’t need to command another spell to finish the creature. 

 

The woman in combat leathers moved with a speed and grace he might have admired were he not otherwise preoccupied. She slammed her daggers into the frozen legs of the ogre and shattered one completely, splintering the other. 

 

“Bethany!” She ordered. The young woman at her side gestured and a fireball, powerful if graceless, slammed into the lower body of the ogre. The boy was dropped from its shattered fist and Solas stayed where he was, eyeing the various humans gathered and listening for darkspawn. 

 

“Carver! Carver, can you hear me, it’s mother.” The older woman cradled the boy’s head. It bled sluggishly and one of his arms was twisted awkwardly. The youngest woman of the group ran over to their side and used a rudimentary healing spell to quell the bleeding. 

 

He groaned and slowly sat up, cringing at his arm. The older woman smiled and wept, flinging her arms around him. 

 

Solas watched the exchange curiously. Until he felt watched in return. 

 

“Are you running from the darkspawn too, or are we just that lucky?” The woman in leathers called out. She approached slowly, daggers sheathed and hands open. He didn’t relax but maneuvered his way closer to the group. 

 

“Yes. They’ve overrun...everything.” He said vaguely. Traveling in a group, humans or not, might be safest. His destination was far and they may know more about the city, not to mention the threat of the darkspawn all around them. His dreams had shown him humanity’s general feelings toward elfkind and it was not promising. But weakened as he was, he had little choice. 

 

She nodded, stopping a good distance from him. “We have a mind to take a ship to Gwaren. Ostagar is gone. The Wardens are gone. Not much stopping the darkspawn from eating us all if we stay here.” 

 

“An unknown apostate.” A sickly looking man protested. “Dangerous, with unknown magic -”

 

“Oh come now, don’t be so dour. It isn’t as though this group is exclusive. We’re all the same to darkspawn, aren’t we?.” She didn’t take her eyes off him. 

 

“The road is dangerous. Having another mage would help.” The young woman said, rising to her feet. 

 

“He saved Carver.” The older woman whispered. “If you need water, messere, I have some in my skein.” 

 

Solas blinked at the show of manners and the different accent. “I would prefer to leave this place but I have no coin.” 

 

“We have enough. And if we don’t, I’m sure there’s things people won’t need that we can find on the way to the docks.” The woman in leathers said. “For the record, I’m Hawke. I’ll introduce everyone else on the way, but we should really move before more darkspawn come. Manners can wait, yes?” 

 

Leandra protested immediately; the boy had to be looked after before they could push on. Hawke reluctantly agreed and perched on an outcropping of rock to keep an eye out for darkspawn. 

 

The man in the armor and the boy with the twisted arm gave him similarly tinged scowls of distrust. The woman who introduced herself as Leandra gave him her skein who also introduced her children and the two other members of the ragtag group. Solas found himself appointed as the healer although he had never been considered one before, and he fashioned a sling for the boy - Carver’s arm after he popped the joint back in. Carver did not thank him, although Leandra did. 

  
It was nearly pleasant, until waves of darkspawn were upon them and a dragon dropped from the sky. 


End file.
